Love And Football
by SantanaGleek
Summary: (G!P) Quinn is just a rebel without a cause. She begins to straighten up her act when she joins the football team and the glee club because there she falls in love with her longtime enemy, Santana. Quinntana
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first fanfic! Sooooo with that being said I hope you like it. This story takes place in an alternate Glee universe. The story takes place in the beginning of Quinn and Santana's junior year. Quinn obviously never had Beth. xD Enjoy!**

Love And Football

Quinn's POV

The silence between us is gratifying. I can quietly appreciate the outdoors and the feeling of the gravel crunching beneath my converses. It's always been like that for me and him. We don't have to fill every aching moment with words because our silence isn't awkward, it's comfortable.

I've known my best friend, Puck, since kindergarten. He was there for me in middle school, when everyone discovered my not-so-little situation and the fact that I was capital G gay. When everyone was making fun of me, he didn't. He was going on and on about how awesome it was because I could be his 'lezbro'. The humiliating treatment ceased to exist and is no longer a problem. When high school hit, curiosities peaked and I became a notorious sex symbol.

"You know.. I still think you should join the football team. You're cool with all the guys on the team, so why not?" Puck breaks the, much appreciated and short lived, silence.

I can't help but sigh and roll my eyes at this. Puck has been trying to pitch this idea to me since freshmen year. We're juniors now.

Puck stops dead in his tracks and stares at me.

"Look, before you deny me, yet another time, just think about it. You're already pretty popular Quinn. I know you don't give a fuck about popularity or 'school sponsored events' but take a minute to stop being such a badass and just consider it. Football will raise your rep 10 fold. Plus, you're _super_ good. So for once we could actually win." Puck continues.

I've told him no time and time again. Every time I shut down his request he breaks a little more each time. It sucks to see my best friend like that, but joining the football team draws a lot of attention and I prefer to keep to myself.

I'll humor him though.

"I will think about it, Puck." I respond with a huff.

Pucks lips pressed into a thin line and he responded with a quiet and sarcastic, "Sure you will."

Just before things begin to get awkward, I'm grateful to see Finn towering in front of our tree house.

I've known Finn since middle school. He, along side Puck, stood up for me when I was getting bullied.

"Hey guys!" Finns shouts and waves with that oafish grin on his face.

"I thought you were shacked up for the night, attempting to get your virgin on with lady man hands." By now he was used to my grim humor and insulting nicknames, but he always reacted with the same defensive attitude.

"Don't talk about Rachel like that! Not cool, dude." I can't help but roll my eyes.

Finn has been dating his current girlfriend, Rachel, since sophomore year. They were nauseously romantic and impossible to stand near for more then a few minutes. But he was happy so, deep down, I was happy for him. I'd never tell him that though.

"Now, what was so important that you insisted I meet you two here?" Finn inquires.

His sudden question reminds me of why I gathered them here and I excitedly rush up the tree house latter, gesturing for them to follow my lead.

"Feast your eyes, gentlemen." I say with a smirk as I step aside revealing the surprise.

"A keg?! How'd you get it?" Puck beams with wide eyes, practically yelling with excitement.

I smirk at his impressed reaction and I fold my arms across my chest, taking pride in my achievement.

"I bought the keg just the other day with my fake ID. I figured a back-to-school party was necessary considering you've got first-string wide receiver and Finn's got first-string quarterback in the bag."

Truthfully, even if they don't get their first-string positions I would still throw a big back-to-school party anyhow. Any reason is reason enough to throw a party, even if it means we're returning to that crummy excuse of a school.

"But in the mean time," I pause as I toss my friends each a can of bud light. "Here's something to hold us for now." I crack open my own can and take a huge swig.

Hours pass and random conversations (mostly about chicks) come and go and just before I can even get the previous memory out of my head, Puck interrupts the silence, again.

"So, Quinn.. Do you think you could try out for running back tomorrow?"

Tomorrow?! I damn near spit out my beer. HE MUST BE _DRUNK!_ There is no way in hell that is happening. But before I can even protest Finn chimes in.

"Yeah! You should. Me and Puck have been talking about it and.." Finn pauses, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Well, you know how good it is when we play at the park and stuff."

What?! I still can't hammer the word _tomorrow_ out of my head. I can't believe Finn could even agree with this shit! I mean, he isn't the sharpest crayon in the box but _still._

It's been decided. They're both drunk.

"So what?! That's the park! This is the real deal! And there is no way I could be ready by tomorrow."

Finn looks like he wants to argue and, for the moment, I even consider punching him in the face to put the whole conversation at rest. But it's Puck who speaks up.

"Look Q, I know you're nervous or _whatever_ but we've seen you and you're great! You're better then anyone on that team by far. Me and Finn.. We need this Q. We need you. Football could be our _only_ chance at college."

This is all so much to take in, but maybe football wouldn't be so bad. They needed me. I just hope I won't regret this.

"Fine."

* * *

The bell just rang; Signaling that I was late to my first class on the first day of school. What's new? I sigh and grab my books from my locker as slow as I possibly can. I dread this day. Meanwhile puck is beside me chatting it up with some random blonde girl. Typical.

When I turn around I see a gang of cheerios advancing towards me and it takes everything not to roll my eyes. They're hot but they don't rule this school like they think they do.

Before I have the opportunity of rushing away their leader, Santana, speaks.

"I heard you're having a party." She smirks.

Who the fuck told- Sam! It had to have been. Him and his big mouth. _Literally._

My dense friend Sam, who I met last year, was incredibly nice but _too_ nice for my liking. _The poor kid couldn't hold water._ If he wasn't off doing some horrible impression he was still talking. Definitely talking. Always, a _lways_ talking _._ I should've known, telling him was a rookie mistake. I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration.

"Who told you?!" I hiss. Her nonchalant attitude has me seething, and she knows this.

"It's all over the twitter-sphere." Santana replies calmly, looking at her perfectly manicured nails. Twitter, of c _ourse!_ I suppose I should've given Sam more credit.

She thinks she's so sly and so goddamn perfect with that dumb smile on her face!

"Well you aren't invited." My lips press into a thin line.

Her menacing, cheshire cat, grin only grows broader and she begins to laugh. Not just a small giggle but a _laugh._ It's oddly compelling but extremely irritating. _What the fuck is so funny?_

"Of _course_ we were invited."

 _By who?_ My obvious confusion but have been plastered on my face because she answers before I even get the opportunity to speak.

"Isn't that right Puck?" _What?!_

Puck slowly pulls his attention away from the blonde he was chatting up and he looks just as confused as me but he smirks when he sees who the voice came from and just as usual he begins thinking with the w _rong_ head _._

"Huh? Oh! Yeah of course. You ladies are definitely welcome to come party with the Puckasaurus."

Id-i-ot.

"Thanks Puck!" Santana calls back as she's already halfway down the hall.

Breathe Quinn. Breathe. Just Brea-

"Ow! What the fuck Quinn!" Puck yells as he rubs his injured arm.

Well, breathing wasn't working. He deserved to be punched; He of all people knows better then to invite _Santana_ to MY party. He knows exactly how I feel about that spawn of Satan.

"C'mon Q, you can't possibly be mad! You want a party with no girls?!"

I'll never tell him this but he's right. But still, _Santana?_ This is a bad start to this day.

* * *

I grip my gym bag hard, taking a deep breath before I enter the guy locker room. _God it smells._ I hate coming in here but Figgins makes me use this locker room due to my non-lady parts. When I tried to protest against it he simply said, "Quinn as much as I'd love to help, _my hands are tied!_ " He's a pathetic excuse for a principal. But I suppose it makes sense, and the guys don't mind so I fit in well enough.

"Yo Quinn!" I look over to see Finn at his locker, waving me over to him.

He shoves some football gear against my chest, identical to the gear that he's already sporting. Finn has a big grin on his face, I know how much this means to him. Meanwhile, my heart is beating out of my chest, I can't believe I'm really doing this.

I get dressed slowly, thinking over the plays that me, Puck, and Finn went over last night in the tree house. I splash my face with cold water from the locker room sink and I look up at myself in the mirror.

 _I can do this. I can._

I put my hair up into a high messy bun and I put on a nike headband as the finishing touch. I let out a big breath that I didn't even realize I was holding in.

I _can_ do this.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Something went wrong with my first upload.. Not all of it was visible. So this authors' note is just in case you happened to have read the fic already. It's fixed now, so check it out! Once again I apologize.**

Love And Football

Quinn's POV

Out on the field, all the players are warming up and stretching, all except for Sam. He's on the other side of the lined grass, talking to the cheerios. _No, Santana._ _Just Santana_. All the other cheerios are talking amongst themselves before Sue arrives with her obnoxious bullhorn and (in my opinion) ingenious insults.

Sam has the biggest smile on his face and Santana, as usual, is wearing her trademark smirk. I wonder what they're talking about.

Although the term "friend" is used loosely when it comes to my relationship with Sam, I can't stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth when he jogs over.

"So," I pause, "What was that about?" I try to keep my voice level, trying to sound casually curious.

He sports a puzzled look on his face and his eyebrows knit together as he falls into deep thought. After a few quiet moments, the Lima beach boy mumbles a quiet _,_ "Huh?" _Ugh. Don't make me say it._

I nod towards the group of cheerios.

"Oh!" A big blush spreads across Sam's face _and_ he rubs the back of his neck nervously. "Well, um, me and Santana are sort of an item now." He finishes with a small, timid smile. _Oh_.

"Oh." I suppose I could have gone about his news in a much better manner, but I simply, unconvincingly, congratulated him and jogged off to join the majority of the team.

I think the term "friend" just grew to be a whole lot looser for me and Sam. Something about him being with Santana just gets under my skin. Perhaps because, _everything_ about Santana gets under my skin.

I can't help but push those useless thoughts out of my head as teammate after teammate begin dishing me fist bumps.

"Yo, Quinn! You're trying out?!" Mike inquires with a huge grin on his face.

"Yep." I answer with a quick reply and a small smile.

That was the first of many questions that afternoon. After I finished answering everyone's questions as to why I was on the football field, wearing football gear (which, in my mind, was incredibly self explanatory) I went to check in with Coach Beiste.

"Name."

"Quinn Fabray." This makes her lift her head from her clipboard and although she's obviously confused, she doesn't say anything which I can certainly appreciate.

"Okie dokie. What position and jersey number are you interested in?"

"Running back and, uhm, six."

Coach Beiste smiles and hands me my slip, directing me to group with the offensive coach, Coach Booth. I jog over and hand him my slip, not missing his hesitation when he sees that I'm a girl. Lucky for me I'm certainly used to strange looks because of my whole penis fiasco. _Ironically not so lucky._

"Well, uh," It's obvious Coach Booth doesn't know what to say so I spare us both an awkward moment and make my way to the bench with the other players.

* * *

I flex my fingers, gripping and ungripping my helmet's face mask as Coach Beiste lines us all up for her lecture. We just finished hardcore drills and I was one of the few players who could actually keep up. I run my fingers through my sweaty hair, redoing my bun.

As I make my way center field, like everyone else, I notice sour looks from Azimio and his pet monkey Karofsky. I do not like them.

"Alright. Good afternoon gentlemen! Oh, and, uh, gentle- lady?" She raises her eyebrow, shooting a lost glance at me; I know she's trying. "Okay, so, today we'll be feeling you all out with a scrimmage. Simple. And I must inform you all that if you make the team, practices will take place everyday after school." Some players groan but I can't imagine that this is information is anything new seeing as how mostly everyone here played last year. "Okay!" She claps her hands together. "Team captains are Hudson and Karofsky." Players pat their helmets, creating and thunderous noise, out of respect for their teammates and I follow suit, patting my own helmet.

"Forget the coin flip Coach. I'll let Finnesa pick first, he'll need all the advantage he can get and I'm feeling nice." Karofsky smirks to himself. Obviously he thinks he's original.

It doesn't seem to bother Finn though. He just mumbles 'whatever' before he skims over his choices, although, he knows exactly who he wants.

"Puck." Obviously.

"Azimio." Also obvious.

"Quinn." Less obvious. But Finn knows my skills even though my team doesn't, but they'll see soon enough.

Finn and Karofsky finish selecting players until there are no more players to choose. Each team turns and jogs to their side of the field, and from there we begin to strategize. Finn and Dave meet center field and coin toss. I guess Dave wasn't nice enough to give Finn _that_ too.

"Tails." Karofsky sneers.

"Tails it is." Coach Beiste reveals the results of the coin she just flipped.

"Let them take the ball." Karofsky smirks at me, teasingly. _Big_ mistake. A menacing, almost _wild grin_ spreads across my face. It's obvious he's underestimated me.

Finn knows this too but he contains his grin, only allowing a small smile to graze his lips and he nods, and agrees with a quick, "Fine by me." Puck on the other hand, like me, doesn't bother to be discreet and is chuckling loudly behind me.

Puck smirks and leans in to whisper, "Let's go kick some ass." In my ear. This makes me smile grow even bigger.

I rest my helmet on the crown of my head and jog out onto the field, lining up in my designated spot.

"I'm gone show you that football is a man's sport sweetheart!" Karofsky shouts at me, as Azimio gives him a supportive high five.

"Yeah. You ain't getting past me baby!" Azimio adds.

I simply smirk at them both before I, wordlessly, put my red mouthpiece in my mouth and pull my helmet over my face. I wiggle my fingers, jumping lightly from side to side, in anticipation, before setting up in my position behind Finn for the running play.

Finn glances back at me and I nod, signaling I'm ready.

"...HUT!" And with that our center hikes Finn the ball and from that moment on I don't miss a single beat.

Finn dishes me the ball and I take off. I run into Azimio first. He has slow feet so a basic juke is enough to throw him off my track. Next I face Mr big talker himself, Karofsky. He charges in with his whole body so I simply spin to the left and he gets a mouthful of grass. I'm dashing to the endzone, almost there, until a safety runs up on me. I tuck the football tighter and stick out my left arm, stiff arming him and I bolt to the end zone.

Although my end zone dance isn't as nice as Mike's it's nice, without a doubt. Better then Finn's at least.

A bunch of my teammates from _both_ teams run up and pat my helmet.

"Shiiiit! We gone call you Spic N' Span cause that was _too_ damn clean!" Of the players yell. I think his name is Matt?

Spic N' Span. _I love it._

* * *

The scrimmage comes to an end and I personally think I did great! I got tackled a bit but I popped right up and showed everyone that a girl can take a hit too. After the scrimmage and the display of many, many touchdowns (curtesy of Puck and I), Coach Booth runs us on some more drills. I run along side Puck. The other players are winded but me and Puck are dominating. Finn too but he also lags behind us, which feeds my theory that Berry is causing him to eat his problems.

When I pitch this theory to Puck during our drills he laughs, or dry heaves harshly? Finn, who overhears pouts at me, fairly unamused, which makes _me_ laugh harder.

Coach Beiste lets us get some water before she tells us to take a knee.

"Alright everyone, great job today! The results will be up on the bulletin board located in the boys locker room, tomorrow. If you've made the team, _do_ expect to have practice after school tomorrow. Alright, break!" On that note everyone flees the field. I jog to the bleachers where I left my gym bag and there, sits a cheerleader waiting for me. I don't recognize her, she must be new. Cheerios do hold their try outs in the summer, anyhow.

"Hi. I'm Kitty." She pops up from her sitting position on the bleachers and holds out her hand for me to shake. She's hot. Overzealous but certainly hot, _and_ new. I can fuck with her before she becomes one of Santana's countless drones.

"Uh, hi?" I raise an eyebrow and put my gym bag on my shoulder before I shake her hand, smirking slightly. "New to the cheerios?"

"Yep!" Kitty exclaims popping the 'p' and excitedly rocking back and forth on her toes. "New, uhm, football?" She asks with a curious smile.

"You could say that."

"Well I was just watching you scrimmage. Very, very intriguing." Kitty smirks, drawing my eyes to her lips as she bites her bottom one.

This. Girl. Is. HOT.

"Well maybe you'll tell me more about it at your party tonight." She adds.

"Uh, yeah sure, totally." She kisses my cheek, smiles,and skips off, wiggling her fingers at me in her adorable form of a wave goodbye. _Wow._

Little did I know Santana was watching that whole transaction and for whatever reason she was very unpleased.

Obliviously, I walk to my car and on the way my teammates shout after me. "Good game Spic N' Span!"

 **A/N: Next chapter is the party! And we find out why Quinn hates Santana so much! And no worries.. this Quinn, Kitty thing shouldn't last** ** _too_ long.. Maybe _;) Oh! And my chapters will get longer, I promise._**

 ** _Comment, comment, comment! -Ask questions. I'll try to reply! :)_**


	3. Chapter 3

Love And Football

Quinn POV

"Holy fuck!" I scream in the middle of target, giving the old lady in the detergent aisle beside us, quite the fright. Her look of disapproval is super amusing.

"Puck I promise if you crash this cart while I'm in it I will cut off your dirty bits." I hiss and he instinctively cups his dick, which naturally makes me erupt in laughter. He hesitantly continues to push the cart and I begin snatching things off racks.

Finn lingers behind us, rolling his eyes at the scene before him and I find a cool pair of neon green shades.

"Thoughts?" I grin, as I slip the shades onto my face. Puck proceeds to call me a dork and I just have to roll my eyes. He's obviously jealous. That's when a song comes on the radio and I have to force my self not to jump out of the cart.

"Oh shit! This our song Q!" Puck screams and begins to sing. " _I know you want me! I made it obvious that I want you too!"_ We start fist pumping the air. We loved this song when we were younger. We'd sing it all the time in class. It's gotten stuck in my head _countless_ times and even though Finn is currently entertaining conversation with Rachel, he loved this song as much as we did. Suddenly he thinks he's Mr Too Cool For School, even though Rachel doesn't need much impressing when you weigh it on the popularity scale.

Puck continues and I instantly join in.

" _So put it on me_

 _Let's remove the space between me and you_

 _Now rock your body_

 _Damn I like the way that you move_

 _So give it to me, oh, ooooohhh_

 _Cause I already know what you wanna do"_

Finn is smiling and Puck is doing a little dance. It isn't bad or good exactly, just care free. We're having a good time and we don't care who knows it. Meanwhile, Rachel looks in awe. Or at least I think it's awe. Her mouth is agape and she looks shocked but at the same time her lips quirk upward as though she's smiling.

" _Here's the situation_

 _Been to every nation_

 _Nobody's ever made me feel the way that you do_

 _You know my motivation_

 _Given my reputation_

 _Please excuse me I don't mean to be rude_

 _But tonight I'm loving you_!"

At this point Puck has stopped pushing the cart and a small crowd has formed around us in the target. By the time we finish the song the ultimately pleased looking audience claps for us, but some disapproving faces push their carts away from the site. Puck cheekily smiles and I slump lower into the cart.

"Onward Puckasaur. I'm thinking a black light party."

* * *

When we finish getting all the party supplies, we load the lights and washable fluorescent paint that we bought into the trunk of my black Jeep wrangler.

We jump into my jeep and the first thing I do, before I even think about putting a seat belt on, is turn on the music. A 'Hot Chelle Rae' song blast from my speakers and fills my car. I quietly hum 'I Like It Like That' and tap my steering wheel as we make our way to the tree house. Rachel decides to lean forward from the _back_ seat and turn down _my_ music! She must have some sort of bizarre death wish. Jeez what is it with people interrupting _my_ silence?!

"You guys were incredible back there." She glances up at me through the mirror before she continues. "At target I mean."

Puck shoots me a confused glance and he tells her, "Thank you." I don't though. I just keep looking at her, waiting, because I know Berry better then that. She wants something and awfully she's persistent. This needs to be nipped in the bud _now._

"Thanks." I say quickly and turn up the volume to a level that makes it clear I don't want to talk. She has no shame in her game and she proceeds to turn down my volume again!

"What the _fuck_ dwarf?!" I hiss and she huffs loudly at my nickname for her and she crosses her arms across her chest.

"I want you both to join the glee club." Puck shrugs and says he'll think about it but she isn't satisfied until she gets us both. When she looks at me I have no shame in whole-heartedly rejecting her request.

"No." Absolutely not.

"But-"

"I said no." This time when I turn my volume up again she doesn't bother messing with it. She just keeps her arms folded and looks out the window like some sort of pathetic, sad music video. _So dramatic._

I can't help but roll my eyes.

When we arrive at the tree house we begin to load things out of my car. Puck and Finn jump out and go to grab the keg. Rachel is giving me a big lecture about how this party will be great and how she's going to put it in her repertoire for her future acting roles. I just nod and pretend to listen but about two minutes into her lecture I lose the will to even pretend anymore and I just block her out. After Puck finishes helping Finn carry the keg to the center of the open field area he begins to help me put up black lights around the tree house.

Finn leaves with my car, taking Rachel with him, to get firewood for the bonfire and because he had to get changed.

If it were any other couple I'd assume they were running off to go at it like rabbits but Rachel and Finn are like the poster children for abstinence. Surprise, surprise there will be no sex.

Tina arrives; She offered to be in charge of the black light paint when Puck posted about a black light party on twitter. That poor sad Asian. I truthfully know she only volunteered because that was basically her ticket to this party and I'm sure getting to paint a bunch of football players' bodies is a huge plus if you're into that sort of thing.

When Finn gets back it's starting to get dark so he quickly sets up the firewood and Puck _insists_ that _he_ lights the fire. He's hesitant to let him because Puck went to juvy for arson. Eventually, Finn loses the argument and when the fire starts to really get going, a few people pull up to the site. _Perfect timing._

A couple of people come up and give me fist bumps, it's really weird. I'm not used to being in cahoots with the whole football team. I kind of like it.

I climb up into the tree house and turn on the speakers that lie there. Once my phone is hooked up to the aux cord I select the Skrillex song 'Scary Monsters And Nice Sprites', blasting music all throughout the party area. Then I grab my bag of clothes that I keep stashed in the tree house and I change into a pair of white basketball shorts.

Below, Tina has set up all the paint and by the time I reach the bottom of the tree house a fair amount of people have arrived and, of course, they've already began to drink.

"Whadduupp Spic!" I whirl around and my heart drops.

Sam and Santana.

She appears confused about my moderated 'Spic N' Span' nickname and he looks, well, stupid. As usual.

The way he's grinning and waving wildly at me, you'd think we're were the best of friends. He stops he front of me, his arm is hooked around Santana, who is wearing a ridiculously short dress. She catches me glancing at her attire and she starts smirking. That _bitch._

"Hi." I deadpan.

"Awesome party, dude!" Sam grins as he scopes the place out with a great enthusiasm. It's quite obvious that my feelings on his arrival differ from his own.

"Right, well," I drawl out, slowly making my exit, "I'm going to go get my body painted. Make sure you get yours done too. Oh! And, uh, there's a food table over there if you're hungry." I muster my best fake smile and as I begin backing up until my body accidentally collides into someone else's.

"Shit! My ba-" It's Kitty. She's wearing this leather crop top thing that shows off her awesome rack as well as white shorts. They are _sinfully_ short, riding up on her thighs. Wow. "Goddamn.." I mutter to myself. "Hey Kitty." She smiles timidly as she throws her hair over her shoulder.

"Hi." She bites her bottom lip and it instantly draws my eyes attention. She notices.

"Well, can I grab you a drink?" She nods and I grab her hand to direct her through the growing crowd. I grab two red solo cups from in front of the keg and hand her one, which she graciously accepts and takes a sip of. Once again I'm staring at those beautiful pink lips.

"I was just about to get my body painted. You can get yours done too," She nods. "If you want." I smile and gesture to Tina's workshop table. "Just consider it a masterpiece on top of a masterpiece." She smiles and sits in Tina's chair letting her work her magic.

When she's done her paint looks great. There's little swirls and dots on her body that I'm sure my tongue could trace with ease. Kitty steps to the side and waits for me, leaning on the table. I remove my shirt, revealing a white Nike sports bra. Tina gasps and reaches up to touch my stomach, which confuses me. Instinctively, I ready myself to swat her hand away but before I do, she speaks.

"How, tell me how." She begins tracing at my abs.

"Hard work and advertised TV workout videos." I deadpan. She nods; She thinks I'm serious. Maybe I'll keep this joke up for a bit. "Yeah," I continue, smirking at Kitty who's covering her mouth, hiding her giggle. "You have to jump up every time one of those commercials come on and just go to town. No holding back. It's like a free gym class." She mutters little 'ooh's' and 'aah's' and 'wow's' as she continues to admire and rub my stomach. I laugh and playfully smack her hand away. "I'm kidding, Chinkerbell. Now get to painting. _Please_."

My body paint comes out awesome! I have lines one my body that makes me look like a neon tiger. There are similar lines on my face as well, except those lines squiggle. Kitty even called me cute. Then she blushed when she realized she didn't mean to say that out loud.

* * *

About an hour or two into the party the music is blasting! It's incredible. It's intense.

There are a bunch of sweaty bodies grinding out on the 'nature dance floor'. Surprisingly, Kitty makes the bold move and drags _me_ out to dance. Her and I have had more then a few drinks, needless to say her bravery probably sprouts from her more-then-a-little buzzed state of being.

On the floor it's crowded and she has no issue conserving space based on how she's pushed up against me.

" _Don't say a word just turn around and let me see_ _  
_ _Girl you got something special, something special for me_ _  
_ _Its way too many suckers in the VIP_ _  
_ _Tell her got my car out front_ _  
_ _Tell me do you wanna kick it in the backseat"_

I can feel the music pulsing and she's grinding against me. She's not shy about how she's brushing up against me and I can feel my pants tightening, she's not letting up and I don't want her to. I grip her hips and bring her closer to me; I need friction and she's not giving it to me. So that's fine, I'll just take it.

" _I wanna get beside ya_ _  
_ _in the backseat_ _  
_ _So I can be your backseat driver_ _  
_ _In the backseat_ _  
_ _I wanna get beside ya_ _  
_ _In the backseat_ _  
_ _So I can be your backseat driver"_

I grip her wrist and before I know it I'm wordlessly guiding her towards the thick trees. She crashes her lips to mine and from there I'm all gone. I bite her lip and press a kiss on the corner of her mouth and leave a trail down her jaw to her neck. Kitty's mouth is agape and she moaning surprisingly loud for my simple ministrations. Nonetheless, in the heat of the moment I slam her back against a tree and a moan is ripped from her lips.

"Fuck, Quinn," She moans. "Don't stop."

And so I don't. It doesn't stop until _she_ pulls away.

"Take me to your car. Let's get out of here." She trails a not-so-innocent finger along my bulge with purpose.

I nod. "Yeah, okay." This is all happening incredibly fast but I certainly don't mind.

For what seems like the umpteenth time tonight I grab her and I'm guiding her through the crowd. She's breathing hard and it's not because of the journey from the woods to the car. That little piece of mind brings a smirk to my lips.

I'm fumbling through my pockets, trying to find my car keys when I hear a noise.

"Sam," It's Santana's voice. "Sam stop. You're drunk."

I squint and scope the area, trying to locate her voice.

"Sam! Please stop! No! I don't wan t-" Found her.

There's a car door ajar and Sam is splayed out on top of a struggling Santana. He's kissing on her neck and he's grabbed her wrist, trying to guide it towards his crotch. And from there the next couple of seconds all happen in a blur.

I grip the back of Sam's varsity jacket and I rip him from inside the car and slam him down onto the pavement. Punch after punch after punch. There's blood on my knuckles that I know for a fact isn't mine. Kitty is yelling but all sound shortly escapes me. I can feel myself blacking out with anger. All I know is that my fist is pounding into his jaw relentlessly. At least it was until I suddenly feel hands grab my waist. I'm thrashing and turning trying to break free and I manage to a couple times but the same hands grip me before I get the chance to do more damage. It's Puck. He's whispering in my ear telling me to calm down and it isn't until now that I notice there's a bunch of people surrounding us.

Sam gets up, spitting blood onto the pavement, and spewing a string of profanities at me. I couldn't care less.

"I'll tell Coach Beiste! You can _forget_ about playing football!" He yells as he wipes the blood dripping from his mouth with the back of his varsity jacket sleeve.

"You won't." Puck steps in front of me, stating matter-of-factly. "Cause we need her and you know that. If she's off the team, I'll make sure you are too." Sam clenches and unclenches his fist before he orders Santana out of his car. Puck grabs her and it takes everything for me not to launch onto Sam again.

I hate people who think they can throw around their weight to get what they want out of people, especially if it's without permission.

He angrily gets into his car, slamming the door behind him. People create an opening for him to pull off quickly, leaving tire marks.

"Alright! Everyone back to the party! There is nothing to see here!" Puck calls out and people, very slowly, begin to move and return to the party. Rachel and Finn stay behind. Finn looks like he's in shock. Or constipated.

I stay quiet. This was Puck's element. He's always been the problem solver when something goes wrong at parties.

"Rachel. Take Quinn home."

"But-"

"Rachel please," Puck holds up his hand. "I know you've been pretending to be drunk _all_ night. Take her home. And Finn you'll take Santana. I'll get Tina's car keys. I'm going to shut this party down in a few."

Rachel keeps her mouth quiet and grabs my keys from the ground. I must have dropped them when I grabbed Sam.

When I look up, my eyes meet Santana's for a few seconds and I don't miss the quiet stream of tears that roll down her face as she looks away from me.

I don't even notice that Rachel is pulling me towards my car before she's pushing me into the passenger side.

I've never seen Rachel so disheveled. She's usually so well kept and put together but right now she's resting her head on the steering wheel like she's trying to gather herself. Her head slowly raises, she purses her lips, and she puts the key in the ignition.

We're only halfway to my house and Rachel has managed to glance at me like eighty times. She must think I'm going to jump out of the car in pursuit of Sam. I might.

"What's the deal with you and Santana?" _What?_

"Excuse me?"

"Well, as far as I know you two hate each other. Yet.." She trails off. "..Yet, I've never seen someone so angry before. So what's the deal?"

A loud sigh escapes my lips in high hopes that she'll take it as a sign to drop it, but Rachel Berry has never been one to be subtle.

I don't know if it's the liquor or what but for some reason, I confide in her.

My shoes suddenly become very interesting as I begin to look down at them, scraping at the car floor lightly. I'm trying to swallow the lump in my throat and hold back my tears. Rachel notices the emotional shift so she lets me take my time and compose myself.

"She, uhm, she _used_ to be my best friend, up until about seventh grade. Santana, unlike myself, always liked attention on her. I wasn't cool in middle school and neither was she, but she wanted to be. She pushed those thoughts aside because that was the price she paid to be my friend. I was "Lucy". I had braces, pimples, glasses, and I was overweight. Personally, it wouldn't have bothered me much, _if_ the popular girls didn't make fun of me for it. I guess you could say my appearance and status destroyed any possibility of popularity for her or myself. Her and me, we were close, super close. And, uhm, I, uh, we kissed." I pause. "Well I kissed her. I thought she didn't mind. I mean, she even kissed me back." I whisper the last part. I feel so broken, like I'm reliving every aching second. "But after that day she detested the whole idea of me _and_ our friendship. She stopped talking to me, ignored me. She told everyone I had a penis. She was the only person who knew. Then she told everyone I was gay and that I had some sort of _freak_ crush on her. And I guess that in doing so, when high school came around, she became friends with the popular girls. She became a cheerio like I she always dreamed of becoming. When high school came around for me, my face cleared up, I lost weight, bought contacts, and even got a nose job. Then I started going by my middle name, Quinn. I refused to be the center of her ongoing joke anymore." I bite the inside of my cheek and nervously twist my hands. This is getting to deep, luckily we're already at my house.

Rachel is looking at me with those sad eyes. I don't want her to see me like this. I don't want anyone to see me this way. _I don't want her fucking sympathy!_

"You can take my car to get to wherever you need to go." And with that I rush out of the car and into my house, where all I can do is cry.

* * *

When I wake up I have dried trails of tears tracing my face as well as a killer hangover and no amount of water is helping. When I open my house door I see that somehow my car is in my driveway. But I decide to walk.

I haven't walked to school since middle school. So many reoccurring middle school memories in a matter of hours. Very overwhelming.

The train tracks I walk along side bring back many memories.

In middle school, Santana and me would walk these tracks together all the time, and I mean _all_ the time. Santana was never a morning person, but I never minded. It meant we'd always miss the bus and get to walk to school together, alone. No interruptions from any other kids, like on the bus. Plus, I loved when she was asleep. She'd look so calm, so serene and she'd hold me close in her sleep. Actions like that made me wonder how she could ever push me away like she did.

I kick at the loose gravel, sending little rocks in every direction.

I shouldn't be thinking about her. I've pushed those thoughts far away, those thoughts of a better time. But those times were a lie. I know who she really is now, that's the only confirmation I need. It drives my hatred and quite honestly I've been feeding off it for so long, I don't know what my life would be like without it. Hatred is safe; Anger is safe. Feelings are a luxury I can't afford because that's when people get hurt. Yet, she looked so vulnerable last night. Deep down I know the girl I used to know is there, but I don't have the time _or_ the interest to dig for her. _Who am I kidding?_ Nothing, _nothing_ has changed.

Further up the tracks is the middle school. I convince myself I don't miss the old times. I take a turn and walk the short, memorized path through the trees and there I see William McKinley High School peeking through the trees.

When I get to school people are staring at me as I enter the school, just like I figured they would. I simply ignore it; I have to.

I stroll to the boys' locker room to see the football results. I need some good news.

In front of the result sheet is a group of boys. Some boys storm off angrily and some are cheering. When they see me _all_ of them fall quiet. _No_. They aren't looking at me. I raise an eyebrow and turn around.

Sam.

He's making his way over here to see the results, but when he catches my eye he pauses and makes his way to turn the hall instead.

I guess he gained some fear in his sober state. _Good._

I didn't realize I did so much damage. He has a cut on his eyebrow and lip, his eye is blue and purple, and his face is scattered with brownish purplish bruises as well as tiny cuts.

My jaw clenches at the memory _. I don't regret a thing_.

Not yet.

My eyes closes and my fist closes tightly in anger. _Breathe. Just breathe. C'mon fucking breathe! Just brea- Fuck this!_

I launch forward to pursue him but Puck grabs me. He's been doing that a lot lately.

"C'mon Q, don't." He keeps his hand on my shoulder, waiting for me to calm down. "I've already had to feed Coach Beiste some bullshit about his face got like that. Don't make matters worse. It isn't worth it."

"But isn't it?" I mutter quietly. "Isn't it worth it?" I don't even completely know what I mean by that exactly, but I know he deserves whatever comes to him.

I sigh quietly and turn toward the result sheet.

I made the team. And of course _, he did too_.

Whatever, I'll just be happy with the good news. But honestly I can't help but wonder why out of all the days I've chosen to skip, why didn't this day in particular make the cut?

The classes are long and dumb as fuck. _Should've skipped._ I wish I could say I was looking forward to football practice but I just want to go home.

I sling my gym bag over my shoulder and jog out onto the field. The tensions are high out on the field but not exactly for me, for Sam. All my teammates pat my shoulder pads while everyone else avoids him.

We run laps around the field and it's just what I need, to blow off some steam.

The whole team is quiet today. No one knows what to say.

Coach Booth doesn't know the difference in the teams dynamic today so when he picks Sam as my offensive warm up partner I can't help but inwardly groan. I know better then to complain to my Coach. That's begging for extra laps.

Sam is quiet as he tosses me the ball, practicing running routes.

"Quinn-"

"I don't talk to future convicts."

"C'mon you're being dramatic. You, yourself have been arrested before." He looks frustrated as he exasperatedly runs his hands through his hair.

"Yes. For small things like shooting Mr. Mancini's car with a paintball gun or putting slushie in the girl locker room shower pipes. You committed sexual assault." I reply coolly, trying to remain level headed as I toss and catch the football.

"I was _drunk!_ " He raises his arms in frustration. "You can't hold me to that!"

I'm slowly losing my resolve. I drop the football I'm holding and rush up to him.

"I. Don't. Care." I press my finger into his chest with every word, emphasizing my distaste. "I can and I will hold you to every last bit of what you did _, know_ that." He visibly gulps and his fearful expression brings a smile to my lips.

I jog back to Coach Booth who just blew his whistle.

"Good job today guys! Practice tomorrow as usual. Everyone break!"

And with that the team splits. There's a group of players lingering around the benches, looking at me. I jog up to them to figure out what's going on. It's Puck, Finn, Mike, Artie (who surprisingly made the team), and Matt. Finn speaks up first.

"Look, dude, we know you've been having a hard time so we want you to know we've got your back. We, um, we dedicated a song to you in glee club. We want you to come see it."

Wow. I don't know what to say.

"Wow. I uh, don't know what to say." I never know what to say about things like this. "Look you don't have to. I'd actually rather you didn't. I just wanna forget about all this."

"It wasn't our idea so you'll have to take this up with her." _Her? Who? Rachel?_

"Her?"

"Me." Out the corner of my eye I see Santana.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. This is _NOT_ Happening.

"No. I'm not interested." Any shred of interest went out the window along with her arrival.

"Can you all go? I want to talk to her, _alone_." She looks at the boy and they nod and walk off towards the locker room.

That word. _Alone._

"Santana I don't-"

"Just listen Q." She hasn't called me Q since we were little. She's called me plenty of other names but never Q or _Quinn_ for that matter.

Santana is rubbing her arm awkwardly, looking for her words. Speechless isn't something that Santana usually is.

"Thank you." _What? This is new. No insults._ "Thank you for what you did. I know you of all people didn't have to help me." She looks especially guilty at this part. "You don't have to come to glee if you don't want to but it would be pretty cool if you did." And with that she casts me a small, sad smile and walks off. She didn't even give me a chance to speak but honestly I have no idea what to even say.

* * *

I linger in the hallway outside of the glee room. I have no idea what I'm doing here.

I open the door and all conversations stop. A bunch of people turn and look at me. Most of them I've seen around the school but I've never really spoken to them.

One boy, I think his name is Kurt, taps Santana's shoulder. She looks up from her conversation with the cheerio I know to be Brittany and her face expression freezes. It changes to something affectionate, platonic even.

"Mr. Schue I have a song I want to sing."

A curly haired man, who teaches my extremely racist Spanish class, looks up at her and clasps his hands together.

"Okay, gang. Santana is going to share a song with us."

All the football guys get up to join her but she holds up her hand, stopping them.

"Change of plans. I have to do this alone. Quinn please sit."

I jump at the use of my name but I slowly make my way to an empty plastic seat on the front row.

"Brad." Santana cues the piano guy who I'm guessing it Brad.

She's leaning from side to side, shifting her weight from foot to foot, she's nervous.

The piano begins to play a familiar song and she's caressing the mic stand. She's filled the room with so much passion and she hasn't even begun to sing yet. But when she does, _wow_.

" _What have I got to do to make you love me?  
What have I got to do to make you care?  
What do I do when lightning strikes me?  
And to wake to find that you're not there"_

All eyes are on us. But all I see is her, for the first time in a long time. Her eyes flicker from me to the floor.

" _What do I do to make you want me?  
What have I got to do to be heard?  
What do I say when it's all over?_

 _And sorry seems to be the hardest word"_

She's apologizing? I thought this was about last night.

 _No._ It runs deeper. She's apologizing for everything.

" _It's sad, so sad  
It's a sad, sad situation  
And it's getting more and more absurd_

 _It's sad, so sad  
Why can't we talk it over?  
Oh, it seems to me  
That sorry seems to be the hardest word"_

This is her apology to me. I used to imagine this moment over and over when I was young and stupid. I imagined she'd plead for my forgiveness and she'd tell me that she loved me like I loved her and then I'd forgive her and we'd be together. Those were childish dreams. Now, in the present, I have a frown etched into my face.

" _It's sad, so sad  
It's a sad, sad situation  
And it's getting more and more absurd_

 _It's sad, so sad  
Why can't we talk it over?  
Oh, it seems to me  
That sorry seems to be the hardest word_

 _What do I do to make you love me?_

 _What have I got to do to be heard?_

 _What do I do when lightning strikes me?_

 _What have I got to do?_

 _What have I got to do?_

 _When sorry seems to be the hardest word"_

She finishes her song and glances nervously up at me.

 _No._

I am _not_ the same gullible hopeful child I used to be. I _know_ heartbreak. I know her, and how deceiving she can be. I refuse to be hurt again.

I do not forgive her.

"I-I wanted to apologize. For everything I did to you and-"

"Ya know, I think I'll join glee after all." I smirk and from behind me I can hear Rachel clapping but she's the last person on my mind. I didn't join for her. I joined out of spite and anger. My walls are building high and strong. "Mr. Schue was it? I have a song to sing." Santana's in awe as I pop up and rip the guitar from Puck's lap.

I pull a stool to the center of the room and I strum and tune it.

If she thinks this was going to be easy and that I'd bend over and _take_ her shit, _then_ forgive her! She has another thing coming.

I begin to play.

" _I remember years ago_

 _Someone told me I should take_

 _Caution when it comes to love_

 _I did, I did_

 _And you were strong and I was not_

 _My illusion, my mistake_

 _I was careless, I forgot_

 _I did_

 _And now when all is done_

 _There is nothing to say_

 _You have gone and so effortlessly_

 _You have won_

 _You can go ahead tell them_

 _Tell them all I know now_

 _Shout it from the rooftops_

 _Write it on the skyline_

 _All we had is gone now_

 _Tell them I was happy_

 _And my heart is broken_

 _All my scars are open_

 _Tell them what I hoped would be_

 _Impossible, impossible_

 _Impossible, impossible_ "

I'm staring right at her, she looks shocked, hurt even. _Good._ Serves her right. She gulps; I know that face. She's holding in tears. I hope she cries. I want her to hurt. I want to hurt her like she hurt me.

" _Falling out of love is hard_

 _Falling for betrayal is worse_

 _Broken trust and broken hearts_

 _I know, I know_

 _Thinking all you need is there_

 _Building faith on love and words_

 _Empty promises will wear_

 _I know, I know_

 _And now when all is gone_

 _There is nothing to say_

 _And if you're done with embarrassing me_

 _On your own you can go ahead tell them_

 _Tell them all I know now_

 _Shout it from the rooftops_

 _Write it on the skyline_

 _All we had is gone now_

 _Tell them I was happy_

 _And my heart is broken_

 _All my scars are open_

 _Tell them what I hoped would be_

 _Impossible, impossible_

 _Impossible, impossible"_

My voice is raw and all my emotions are in this song. She doesn't deserve my feelings or an explanation. Lord knows, I never got a single fucking clue from her. Everything just turned bitter and cruel. And I'm still so, _so_ angry.

" _And now when all is gone_

 _There is nothing to say_

 _And if you're done with embarrassing me_

 _On your own go ahead tell them_

 _Tell them all I know now_

 _Shout it from the rooftops_

 _Write it on the skyline_

 _All we had is gone now_

 _Tell them I was happy_

 _And my heart is broken_

 _All my scars are open_

 _Tell them what I hoped would be_

 _Impossible, impossible_

 _Impossible, impossible_

 _Impossible, impossible_

 _Impossible, impossible"_

The song is done and all the glee clubbers are in shock. They all clap but through all their thunderous applause all I can focus my eyes on is Santana. She doesn't clap.

"Damnnn," Mercedes interjects "She can saanng!"

Mr. Schuster claps and walks to the center of the room.

"Well let's give a great big glee welcome to our newest member, guys!" He laughs and pats me on the back. "Great job."

I just stand in the middle of the room, staring at her.

"I don't forgive you. Let that be _clear_." I whisper, for her ears only. I know she hears me. She quietly looks down at her white Nike cheerio shoes.

I brush past her and sit in one of the plastic chairs on the top row, as far away from her as possible.

"Okay," Mr. Schue drawls out, clapping his hands together. _He claps a lot._ "So, Santana and Quinn have done an excellent job and have inspired me for this weeks lesson. Conflict." I can hear Mr. Schue speaking but I don't look at him. My eyes are burning holes in the back of Santana's head.

"Santana and Quinn showed conflict against one another _but_ this weeks lesson will consist of songs that tap into your _inner_ conflict because if you don't address that, then you can't address conflict with others. All right, that's all! Everyone get to work on your songs for the week and have a good afternoon."

Santana is the first person to exploit his dismissal, rushing out of the choir room.

* * *

As I'm walking home, thousands of melodies fill my head.

 _What's my inner conflict?_ That's simple.

I ruin everything good that comes to me and it's all because of her. Santana has broken me beyond the point of being put back together by _anyone_ who wishes to love me.

I lie. I cheat. I do whatever to push people away from me. I hurt before I get hurt, simply because I can't allow myself to risk being hurt like she hurt me.

My inner conflict is obvious.

Commitment.

 **A/N: All right, intense?! xD Next chapter it'll finally be Santana's POV! We'll also get some more glee action! And** _ **possibly**_ **Quinn's first football game?! Maybe, maybe not? If you think I should, comment. And I love suggestions! Anything you'd like to see happen? Let me know!**

 **Comment, comment, comment!**

 **Songs:**

 **Tonight (I'm Lovin' You) by Enrique Iglesias ft. Ludacris & DJ Frank E**

 **Backseat by New Boyz ft. The Cataracs & Dev**

 **Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word by Elton John (Mary J. Blige Version)**

 **Impossible by Shontelle (Leroy Sanchez Version)**


	4. Chapter 4

Love And Football

Santana's POV

"Fuck Britt!" I scream as my orgasm hits me, hard. I look down to see two piercing blue eyes looking up at me from between my thighs. Brittany is wearing one of her small innocent smiles. It amuses me how after doing something so the opposite of innocent, she still smiles that way. She wants to say something; I know that look. Putting my amusement aside, I start scanning the room for my scattered clothes, not hesitating to ungracefully pull them on. I've got to get out of here before this becomes a conversation.

"Do you feel better, San?" I know she cares but I seriously don't want to talk about it.

She followed me when I stormed out glee in my moment of rage and various other emotions I couldn't begin to explain. Brittany always knows when I'm upset and she always knows how to, uh, make me feel better. She understands that I don't want a real relationship, but there is certainly a _frequent_ sexual relationship between her and I.

I choose not to think too much into it.

I'm not gay; She gets that.

Quinn didn't get it.

"I'm fine."

"Spend the night?" No. If I do, the night will definitely result in a discussion that I _desperately_ want to avoid.

"I'd love to but my mom wants me home. I'm sorry." _Lie._

Brittany doesn't seem to notice and just nods. As I'm walking out the door, to my car, my deepest inner thoughts find me.

My Mom is always working. She's hardly every home, actually. I'm surprised Brittany believed me, but then again I've never told her any different. The only person who knows what it's like with my mom is Quinn.

When I was younger I'd stay and Quinn's house all the time. It helped me escape the constant loneliness because it was such a loving household. Quinn's parents loved me and quite honestly I loved them just the same. I miss it.

I've yet to get that close with anyone since our fall out.

I wish I could have that back, but leaving it all behind was the price I _had_ to pay. Back then there was no choice. It was something I _had_ to do.

Yet, these days I regret it.

Especially after what happened in that choir room..

I've _never_ seen Quinn so raw before.

Except for that one time. Long ago.

But I've convinced myself that moment never happened. Out of sight, out of mind. Yet, how could I fully forget? I couldn't. Honestly, I thought about that moment a lot, especially recently and I don't know why.

That moment.

When she kissed me.

I didn't pull away and I wasn't disgusted. That was the scariest part. I indulged in her, I kissed back.

I'm not gay, I couldn't be.

I looked at boys and thought of _boys_ that way. It was all too much for my smaller, younger self to understand so I did I what I do best. I did what I'm doing now. Ran.

At some point I have to decide that enough is enough and I'll confront my issues but how? What am I to say? How do I fix my huge mistake?

I open my car door and get behind the wheel with a sigh.

It's all so complicated.

In glee I thought that maybe, well, actually I don't know what I was thinking. When I sang to her, I guess I was thinking that everything would be all right and that bygones could be bygones. I couldn't have been any more wrong.

I start the ignition and pull out of Brittany's driveway. I just want to get home.

This has been such a depressing day. _No,_ _week._

When I went to Quinn's party it was just to annoy her. I just wanted to get a rise out of Quinn because anger is the only reaction I can ever get from her anymore. It's my only way of remaining in her life somehow. If she didn't see me as a constant enemy then I'd hold absolutely no importance in her mind, and part of me couldn't accept that. I'd rather her hate me, then to have forgotten me.

However, Sam asking me out was _not_ apart of the plan and the following events the night of the party _certainly_ wasn't apart of my plan.

I was so disgusted and annoyed with Sam's drunken antics. It wasn't my first time getting into a quarrel like that but Quinn attacking Sam like that was definitely a surprise. Honestly, it was hot. But it was scary. Quinn looked scary. I'd never seen anyone so angry and that's coming from _me_ , the beholder of an incredibly angry, evil alter ego 'Snixx'.

My mind had been so filled with thoughts the thoughts of the week that I hadn't even noticed I subconsciously pulled into the wrong neighborhood. It only took me a second to identify where I was. I knew this place like the back of my tan hand. This is Quinn's neighborhood.

The universe has a sick sense of humor and I have a tendency to make dumb decisions because I find myself continuing along the familiar path.

 _I don't know what the fuck I'm doing._ My wheels keep turning on the fresh pavement and suddenly I'm parked in front of her house.

 _I want to make this right._

Then suddenly I find myself _outside her door._ I muster up enough confidence to knock. _Why am I here again?_

As I begin to second-guess myself and turn to leave, her mom opens the door and I hear a loud gasp.

"Santana?! Is that you?" This makes me smile. I've really missed her.

"Hi Mrs. Fabray."

"My, my. You've really filled out honey. I remember when I used to be that perky! Oh and-" _Oh my god._

"Honey I'm sure she doesn't want to hear about that." Mr. Fabray interrupts as he descends the staircase. "Hi Santana." He smiles kindly at me.

I can't help but praise him for his impeccable timing and interruption. The last thing I want is to have a 'boob talk' with Mrs. Fabray.

But, I'm confused.

Did Quinn never tell them what I did? They're being so nice. Part of me wishes they knew, that they'd turn me away from the door and their home. Or yell at me. Or _something_. I deserve it.

"It's been so long." Mrs. Fabray interrupts my self-criticizing thoughts. "You here to see Quinnie?" Mrs. Fabray asks.

"Uh-"

"Qunnie! You have a visitor!" _Shit_.

"I don't care!" I hear her shout from where I can only assume is her room. _She's blunt._

"Quinn!" Mrs. Fabray raises her voice; all happiness seems to have subsided. She glances at me with an apologetic smile. I shift my weight from foot to foot; suddenly my shoes have become fairly interesting. _Have my cheerio shoes always been this white?_

I feel so nervous, so out of place and it's hard to believe that not long ago this place was like a second home to me. I don't know what I was thinking, coming here. Before I get the chance to make some lame excuse to her parents about why I suddenly have to go, she catches my eye as she begins slowly descending the stairs with a bored expression on her face. She's too busy rolling her eyes, she hasn't noticed me yet.

"Ugh! Who the fuck is-" She abruptly stops on the steps. Her jaw is set and her eyes are dark, more so green then they are hazel. I remember that look. She's mad, furious. Yet, I've never seen it this intense before. _Fuck._

Her intense gaze makes my stomach do flips and I suddenly feel incredibly nauseous.

"Why is she here?" She growls. Her eyes are still on me and it's very intimidating.

Usually, I have a bitchy gaze to match but this is _different._ Lately I've decided to be all kumbaya n' shit and _bear my soul_.

"Quinn, maybe you can introduce her to your friend." Mrs. Fabray pushes.

 _Someone else is here?_

"Q what's going on?" Kitty walks out of her room. _What the fuck?!_

"They already know each other." Quinn deadpans.

It's obvious she wants me to leave and honestly, I think I should.

 _Obviously, Mrs. Fabray has other plans._

"Good!" She clasps her hands together. "No need for awkward greetings then. You girls have a grand time! I'll bring up some snacks in a few minutes."

"Mom." Quinn grits her teeth.

"Quinn, take your friends to your room." Before Quinn can retort, and it's obvious she wants to, Mrs. Fabray makes her way to, what I remember as the kitchen.

I chance a glance up at Quinn. _Mistake._

She's glaring at me and her eyes burn with anger and hatred. Her fists are balled at her sides.

I used to see her in this position all the time. When kids would bully us at school she'd get like this. Back then I'd walk her home, hold her and kiss her forehead until she eventually calmed down. She'd mutter under her breath how she'd show them all some day. How we _both_ would.

I suppose she was right. We're showing them that we're better then they declared us to be, but I know she always imagined us to show them _together_.

Me and her together? That's something that no one has seen in a long, long time.

But I just want to kiss the anger away, like I used to. Maybe If I hadn't been such a coward, things would be different.

Who knew things would be so unfamiliar, and it's all my fault.

The anger etched onto her face, it's all my fault and it makes me want to cry. I can feel the lump forming in my throat.

Quinn looks over my whole entirety with disgust and it makes me want to confess everything.

"C'mon lets go to your room, Q." Kitty suggests in the midst of the silence.

Q? _What. The. Fuck._

That's about the second time she's called her that. Since when have they become so _acquainted?_

Now that I think about it, I have spotted them together more then usual, usual being not at all.

 _What the fuck is going on?_

We reach Quinn's room and she grabs an open can of root beer. She hasn't changed a bit. That was always her favorite as a child. Quinn drinking root beer, is all too familiar, but Kitty laying comfortably on her bed reading a Cosmo magazine is the epitome of unfamiliar.

"Are you two dating?" I blurt out subconsciously.

 _Oh fuck._ I didn't mean to say that out loud.

I can see Quinn, sitting on a black beanbag chair, choking on her soda beside me from where I stand, at the doorway.

"Oh jeez Q, drink much?" Kitty hops on her toes and pats her back, rubbing small circles, which I can't imagine to be helpful. It seems a little more then platonic.

"Fuck you." Quinn smiles at her.

"Oh gross the air stinks of flirtatious pheromones, it makes me gag." This is _literally_ sickening to watch.

"Then leave." Quinn snaps.

"Babe, calm down." Kitty kisses he cheek before she settles down onto her lap. "To answer your question, we aren't exactly official, official but we're seeing each other."

'Oh' is all I can manage out. My mouth feels dry and I suddenly feel incredibly queasy. _How could I be so stupid? Why did I come here? I bet I interrupted something. They were probably about to-_

Just as my thoughts start to run wild and I begin to back out of the doorway I feel something hard collide with my back, stopping my train of thought.

"Oh excuse me, sweetie. Why don't you sit down somewhere?" Mrs. Fabray comes bustling in with a tray scattered with cookies. _Fuck. I was about to book it to my car._

Quinn's parents have proven to have impeccable timing thus far, why ruin the streak?

"Quinn, find her somewhere to sit." Mrs. Fabray orders and Quinn glances at me lazily.

"She can see, mother. The chairs aren't disguised." _Rude._

I shuffle over to her desk area and pull out the rolling chair that rests underneath it and sit.

She continues to stare at me as she speaks to her mom. "Happy now?"

Mrs. Fabray only makes frustrated sound that seems mixed between a sigh and a grunt. Nonetheless, she's obviously not amused with Quinn's attitude. That makes two of us.

She sets the cookies on the desk behind me.

"Can I get you girls anything to drink?"

I shake my head and look over at Kitty and Quinn; they're in their own little world. I might think they were cute if they didn't make my insides churn. _Might._

"Kitty, Quinn what about you girls?"

"No, I think Quinn has had plenty to drink." Kitty says with a smile. Quinn laughs dryly, harmlessly in response.

 _How cute._

"I'm good on drinks though." She concludes and Mrs. Fabray excuses herself and exits Quinn's bedroom.

Hours pass of meaningless conversation and I discover that Kitty isn't quite the dumb bimbo whore that I thought her out to be. I've never directly spoken to her during cheerios practice. She was all right.

We talked a bit about celebrities, which Quinn showed no interest in. Then we insulted people on Instagram, which Quinn showed no interest in. We even decided 'why not go all retro 90s slumber party?' and did each other's nails but Quinn shut that down _immediately_. Surprise, surprise.

When the day began to come to an end I was surprised by how fast the night was closing in. I guess time flies when you're critiquing ugly bitches on Instagram.

"Oh fuck! I have to go. My mom is probably freaking out! I was supposed to leave like an hour ago." I hate to admit it but I'm actually sort of dreading Kitty's departure. She was kind of fun. _Kind of._ Plus I'd like to avoid being alone with Quinn.

"It was fun, Santana. Bye, baby." She leans over and pecks Quinn on the lips. It literally takes every ounce of me not to visibly cringe, but I certainly did eternally.

A few moments after Kitty left me and Quinn sat there in silence. Every now and then she'd click away at her phone, before she looks up and acknowledges me for the first time in what feels like hours.

She doesn't look as angry as before.

"You know you're a huge cockblock right?" A small smile plays on her lips.

"Gross, Fabray. Your parents are home." She shrugs and stalks over to her bookcase.

She scans the shelves before she finds what she's looking for. It's a thick book with dark, but also bright, coloring.

"What're you doing?" She raises an eyebrow at my question.

"What do you generally do with books?" _Smartass_.

"If any more sarcasm were to drip from your voice you just might create a puddle." She laughs. She would think that's funny. She'd think my frustration was funny, no doubt.

I catch a glimpse of the cover of the book she selected. It's a Harry Potter book, the last one.

"Haven't you read that one already?" I inquire. She looks up at me and her beautiful hazel eyes connect with my own. It makes my breath hitch.

"Yeah," She pauses. "How do you know?" _Uh.._

"I, uh, I-" _Think. Think. Think._ "You read it when we were younger."

"When we _were_ friends?" _Ouch._

"Uh, yeah?" I try to sound sure of my answer but she's always been able to see right through my bullshit.

"Nice try." She smirks. "I have read this book before, but I hadn't read it until my freshman year." She watches me curiously, shutting the book on whatever page she was previously reading. "I can assure you we _weren't_ friends then." I can see a flicker of anger in her eyes and her jaw sets. "So I'm positive that's not how you know."

"Well, uhm, I-"

She's burning holes into me with that stare and it isn't helping me get my words out.

"I used to watch you." I say in a barely audible whisper. Oh, but she hears me. It's _obvious_ she heard me loud and clear. My head lowers in what I can only describe as embarrassment.

"Hmm," She hums. "Used to?" Quinn raises an eyebrow. "Why? I was nothing but a freak to you." She mumbles. "Who would want to look at a _freak_ like me, right?!"

"Quinn-"

She jolts from where's she's sitting, pulling at her hair. She looks distressed and if I didn't know the severity of the given situation, I might think she was insane. She begins to pace the floors before she points a shaky finger at me.

"I used to be so fucking damaged! Your fault! It was all your fault!" She mutters 'Your fault, all your fault.' to herself over and over and I just want to hold her and tell her how sorry I am. But my pride is built too high that I can't find it within myself to do it, and quite frankly I am too stunned. This all happened so fast.

"Why the fuck did you do it?!" I knew this question would come some day, but not right now. Not over a simple comment over a simple fucking book. I didn't know how to answer. Sure, I'd planned for this many times in my head but it's different when it's happening. It's always different.

"I-I-"

 _I was scared._ I want to scream it. I want to tell her, but I can't find it within myself.

"You- You- What?! You what Santana?!"

"I just-"

"You know what- Get out! I don't want you in my house. Stay away from me." She rushes towards her door and opens it wide, gesturing for me to leave.

"I'm sure you know how to operate the front door. You didn't hesitate to assess that skill when you walked out on me the first time around." _Ouch._

She can't think it was so simple. That it was out of hate or even worse, that I thought she was a _freak_? She was my best friend. She meant the world to me, plain and simple. She still means a lot to me. She has to know that, she has to. But, why would she? I haven't shown her that.

"But Quinn-"

"You're so fucking sick. Coming back here. Of _all_ the places! Was bothering me at school not satisfying enough for you?! Did my pain not suffice the first time around? Get the fuck out!"

She made her distaste for me quite obvious. So I trudge out to my car and just sit there.

I punch at my steering wheel.

"Fuck!" Of course she'd respond to me that way. I've treated her horribly. I feel horrible. I just want to forget. I need to forget.

I whip out my phone and dial the one person who always has good shit when I need it.

"Puck? Yeah, I'm coming over."

It takes a few minutes to get to his house, which isn't too far from Quinn's. The minute I step foot into his house I raid the alcohol cabinet. This isn't my first rodeo. I've been here for plenty of parties or simply just to do what I'm doing now, drink. He's always got a full stock and his parents don't care what he does with it.

Within ten minutes I've raided the cabinet for the strongest stuff I could find and it doesn't take long before I can feel the wonderful buzz. I need this.

"Woaaahh there, my Latina princess, slow down."

"Don't fucking call me that! I'm not your princess!" I hiss. "And let go of my booze." He raises his hands in surrender, releasing my shot glass. I proceed to take my fifth shot of the night. I'm slowly unraveling into a hot, emotional mess.

"Puck, Quinn hates me."

He hums in agreement. "No kidding. Can you blame her?" He pauses, taking a sip of his Bud Light. "After what you did; you were a bitch to her."

That's when it happens. All the choked up, held in sobs, rushes out and I'm crying with no sign of stopping soon.

"I fucked up, Puck!" He nearly trips over himself trying to rush to me. He's a huge horn dog but he's also a big teddy bear.

"Woah, woah don't cry. I thought you hated each other. Like, mutually." He wraps his arm around my waist.

"Mutually. Who knew you knew such a big fucking word!" I spit. At this point he knows me too well to let my defense mechanism fall into place. This isn't my first time drunk and venting to him. The thing about Puck is he doesn't ask questions, he just listens and for some reason strange reason, he doesn't tell people what I tell him.

"Oh shut up, Lopez." He rubs small circles on my back until my crying slows and I curl into his shoulder.

"I'm a coward." I whisper to no one in particular.

My tears return and I'm sobbing onto his already damp t-shirt. The repercussions to my past decision were bound to make itself known eventually. I always figured it would be sooner though. Perhaps I was too wrapped in popularity to give karma the light of day.

"Hey, Santana?" I hum. "You're not a coward." If only he knew the truth. He'd think differently.

"You were brave to sing to her in glee and crying doesn't make you a coward if that's what you mean." He pauses. "Quinn would probably kill me for what I'm about to tell you, but I trust you not to repeat this. She, uhm, she cried when you left. She cried a lot." I can feel him shift uncomfortably underneath me as though he was recurring the memory. "Why'd you leave?" He whispers.

No one ever had the guts to ask me that. People noticed me and Quinn's split but no one, and I mean _no one_ ever attempted to question it.

"I-"

"That's what Quinn would ask." He interrupts. "She'd cry and ask herself aloud 'Why'd you leave?' It was a horrible thing to watch."

"Why are you telling me this, Puck?" I already feel awful.

"I'm telling you this because I think you can fix it, eventually. But in order to do that I think you should know how bad you hurt her. I also think that when you sang in the choir room you scared the fuck out of her. You're inching into her life and she doesn't know why. She doesn't want to get hurt again. Do with this information what you may." He takes another swig of his beer.

It's quiet for a moment as I take in all this new information. I wasn't expecting any information, especially not from Puck, her best friend.

"Thank you." He hums quietly in response.

 **A/N Okay! So a few people have been wondering if I'm still on board with this story. I am! Work has picked up a bit and so you'll have to bear with me when it comes to updates.**

 **Sorry I couldn't fit in Quinn's game. I figured it wouldn't capture the moment too well in Santana's POV and I absolutely HATE switching POVs in the middle of a chapter. Soooo until next time!**

 **Review! (They inspire quicker updates. :P)**


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